“Wishes are fascinating, aren’t they? Only those who’ve lost everything crave them so desperately,” Jester whispered.
“You’re wrong! That was never his true wish,” Exitus replied.
“I know! But he wished for it nonetheless. The wish that nightmares grant is never the true one,” Jester smiled enigmatically.
It was just a fragment of Richer’s memories. Perhaps there were more others scattered throughout this “Abyss.” Golden Richer? The Golden Kingdom? There was no longer any doubt, he was the one behind it all. The man who harvested the energy of nightmares through the Allblack kennels.
“The youngest son of the Golden family, huh? Nashor's request is quite the challenge,” Exitus clicked his tongue.
Golden had been founded ten years ago. A long time had passed, and Richer must have grown immensely powerful, especially with the strength of a nightmare artifact at his disposal. Exitus couldn’t deny the might of the Madenes book, but Richer too must possess something similar. So his method of gathering nightmare energy was likely how he empowered his own artifact.
If all that were true, then a war with Hesmor was inevitable. The Allblack Incident was merely the prelude. Soon, Golden and Hesmor would erupt into a full-scale armed conflict. War was an endless factory of nightmares.
Exitus clenched his fists. Chaos was coming. He had to grow stronger—fast—or survival would be uncertain. He stepped toward the golden chest, eager to see what lay within his first golden reward.
“Badge of the SilverFang” (Epic)
“The badge awarded to the chieftain of the SilverFang tribe, one of the six founding tribes of Ossa. The six badge were forged by Drumrak, the Thunder God, as symbols of unity before the most crucial war in history. They are not mere insignias, they are fragments of a legendary weapon.”
Collect all six badges to summon Reddan’s legendary weapon, “The Badge of Unity.”
Effect: The SilverFang tribe values speed above all. Their warriors are unmatched in swiftness. The bearer of this emblem gains a massive boost in speed.
“I remember those bastards. They killed my favorite rat.” — Madenes
"Page Ability: Super speed"
"Super speed: Greatly increases movement and attack speed."
A surge of power coursed through Exitus’s body. He felt his steps lighten, his very weight seemed to vanish. He moved like the wind, his strikes flashing faster than lightning, nearly impossible to block.
“So fast! This speed far surpasses Draco’s potion. Probably equal to a warlord specialized in agility.” With this ability, Exitus no longer feared anyone of his rank. If he couldn’t win, he’d simply outrun them. He closed his eyes, slowly adapting to the newfound power.
“Alright, kid! Let’s meet again in another room!” Jester smiled, fading away, a familiar gesture of his.
From Richer’s memories, Exitus understood that Jester was no ordinary being. He wielded the very essence of nightmare power and held the authority to grant wishes, yet he seemed bound by some unknown rule. No matter. For now, only one monster remained, the stone guardian blocking the passage to the next floor. Exitus steeled himself. He had to destroy it and descend further. Only by going deeper could he gather enough strength to face what awaited.
In the lavish, opulent study chamber of the Golden royal palace, Richer rested with his eyes closed after reading through piles of official documents. Suddenly, his brows furrowed slightly, and he spoke softly:
“Come in. No need to knock.”
The door opened. Standing outside was a red-haired middle-aged man, It was Net, the chieftain of the GoldenFang tribe. He quietly closed the door and bowed respectfully.
“It seems your "Will" has advanced once again, my lord, enough to pierce through magical barriers. You are drawing ever closer to the realm of the Sorcerer Emperor.”
“Both you and I know that’s still a distant dream, Net. Just say what you came for. After all, in theory, I’m still a member of GoldenFang,” Richer said calmly.
“The young slaves are dying off one after another. This isn’t a sustainable solution, my lord. Sooner or later, they’ll all perish, and Dark Despair will have to halt production. Our clients won’t be pleased once we lose revenue from the weapons trade, we’ll no longer have control over the Council.”
“I’ve foreseen that,” Richer replied in a measured tone. “It won’t be long before Hesmor brings its army against Golden. War will break out again and this time, we won’t be the ones to start it.”
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“How could that be? Rumi is a cowardly old man. He’d never dare start a war,” Net questioned in disbelief.
“Rumi? I never said Rumi would be the one leading Hesmor, did I?”
“But Astor is dead! You killed him yourself! Rumi has no rivals left, he’s bound to become the True King.”
“Hahaha! You have no idea, Net. There’s still one more player left in the game.” Richer narrowed his eyes and smiled enigmatically.
The massive boulder oozed a thick black fluid that seeped from the cracks across its surface. It pulsed faintly, as if breathing. Exitus slashed at it multiple times, but its defense was incredibly sturdy. He commanded Vorshade to thrust his sword into the fissures, yet when the blade was withdrawn, it was coated only in sticky black sludge, completely ineffective. The thing simply sat there, heaving slowly, blocking his path as if it intended to imprison him in this place forever. Exitus studied the dark substance carefully, his expression thoughtful. It seemed to be a mixture of decaying flesh and blood.
“If it’s made of flesh… then can it be poisoned?” A spark of realization flashed in his mind. Swish! Exitus slew a Venom, then filled a small glass vial, the same one that once contained Draco’s potion from the first floor, with its toxic fluid.
“It’s not corroding… so this glass must be made from something quite special,” he murmured.
He poured the venom into the fissures of the boulder and waited for something to happen. Five minutes passed… ten minutes… nothing. Just as Exitus turned away to examine the spider corpses for more clues, a hideous, guttural scream erupted. Yes! A scream from within the boulder. The stone trembled violently; bright red fluid spewed from its cracks. Then, BOOM! The rock burst apart, disintegrating into a cloud of white mist. What remained was a pile of foul, slimy flesh. Beyond it, the passageway revealed itself before the boy’s eyes.
“Flesh Rock”
"Race: Demon"
"Description: Monstrous entities created by forcing multiple living beings into a confined stone, then casting a dark curse upon it. The trapped victims suffer eternal agony until they lose consciousness, fusing into a single mass of living flesh. A cruel form of torture once practiced by the Bloodhunt demons, worshippers of the Old God Yh’raeth — the deity of Blood and Rebirth."
"Power: Lacks offensive capabilities. These creatures merely exist as symbols of purification rituals. They remain alive until all life within them is completely drained."
"A symbolic creation of the Bloodhunt demons, wretched beings driven mad by the whispers of Yh’raeth" - Madenes.
Page Ability: “Pain Resistance”
Pain Resistance — increases tolerance to pain.
Exitus was already a boy of extraordinary endurance and iron will; pain was something almost familiar to him. This ability didn’t seem all that useful. The information on the page itself might have been of greater value. Then suddenly, a thought struck him. The monsters on this floor, the eye, the serpent, and now this living stone, seemed to hint at a very familiar name from the past.
“The eye, the snake, and the rock… If I’m not mistaken, the hidden elite monster on this floor must be her”.
Exitus didn’t linger any longer on the second floor, he headed straight for the third, weaving through monsters while observing and studying them. Just as he had predicted, each floor contained three distinct types of creatures. They were somehow linked to one another, hiding the presence of a true monster behind them. He gathered every unguarded treasure chest along the way and quickly descended to the tenth floor. Exitus could feel that the tenth floor held the true trial meant for him. With his enhanced speed, he easily avoided unnecessary fights. His strategy was simple: descend as fast as possible. Strange, grotesque monsters blurred past him as he darted from one gateway to another until finally, Exitus arrived at the tenth floor.
Before him stood an enormous stone gate, embedded with nine gem-shaped hollows. It seemed he would need nine specific objects to unlock it. But what could they be? Exitus’s mind replayed every moment of his journey through the Abyss.
“Nine hollows… nine floors… nine hidden monsters.” His eyes flashed with realization.
That must be it. So this was the first true trial of the Abyss, defeat all nine hidden bosses before facing the first Guardian.
“I suppose you already know what you must do,” came Jester’s voice from behind him.
“All that lies within the Abyss is a vast source of power waiting for you to unlock,” the entity whispered. “Failure means you were never worthy to inherit it. And when that happens… someone else will take your place.” Exitus said nothing. He stared at Jester, his mind full of questions.
“What is your true goal, Jester? Why me? This isn’t random. You chose me! You manipulated every wish.”
“I know your heart is full of doubt,” Jester replied with a faint smile. “You’ll have your answers once you reach the eightieth floor. For now, you’re not ready. Everything here is designed to help you grow gradually without being consumed by the book’s power.”
“Defeat the first Guardian, and you’ll unlock Authority. You’ll be able to use a portion of the book’s functions"
“Remember, boy,” Jester’s voice faded as his body dissolved into nothingness, “The book is your strength… but it is not yet yours.”
Exitus had never been an ordinary child. Deep down, he always felt destined to complete some unfinished purpose. “Then I’ll go all the way,” Exitus murmured, eyes burning with resolve. “I’ll tear this mystery apart piece by piece.” With that, he activated the book. His body was covered in black mist and vanished from the tenth floor of the Abyss.
A memory surged in the boy’s mind. From the moment he became aware, even before the Nightmare Stone appeared, Jester had always been there, whispering in his thoughts, guiding him from the shadows like a watchful puppet master. In moments like that, there was only one person who was there for him, helped you get through the long, dark nights.
On a pitch-black night with no moon and no stars, in the plains along the Hesmor border, inside a simple tent in a poor, humble village, a little boy awoke in tears. He clung fearfully to his mother lying beside him, sobbing uncontrollably:
“Mom! I... I had a nightmare again. It was that red-eyed old man again. He stood there, watching me, then let out a cold, cruel smile. The darkness behind him surged forward, engulfing me and squeezing so tightly that I could not breathe. Sniff sniff”
“There, there! My smart little Exitus, come here, let me sing you a lullaby. I’ll protect my son! If that old man dares to show up, I’ll beat him right away,” the gentle woman smiled. Her eyes were dark and tired, but she still softly comforted the small child resting in her arms. Her lullaby sounded clear and tender in the gloomy night.
“Baby, go to sleep"
"The night is late."
"Let the beautiful dreams always stay with you"
"Baby, sleep well, in the sound of lullaby."
"The moonlight awaits, to fly with you into dreams."
"Sweet dreams, my baby.”